


Treading Water

by meaninglessblah



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Gen, Injury Recovery, Mer Damian Wayne, Mer Jason Todd, MerMay, Past Violence, Researcher Bruce Wayne, Researcher Tim Drake, Reverse Robins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/pseuds/meaninglessblah
Summary: Tim is tasked with getting some observational photos of the curious but distrustful mer calf in their care.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 20
Kudos: 320





	Treading Water

“It’s not going to go under,” Tim says around the heel of his hand where it smooshes his cheek. He dips a few fingertips into the water beneath the pontoon, disrupting the ripple of waves churning out from the struggling mer. 

“Shut up,” the calf in the shoreline shallows quips, and shoves downwards. 

Tim watches idly as the inflatable ball submerges for the barest moment, vibrating furiously beneath the calf’s steady hands. The mer’s expression lights with ecstatic victory, and then the ball rolls out from under his palms, ricocheting up to the surface with violent intent to smack him in the nose. 

The calf yelps and reels back, clutching his bridge as he backpedals. Tim watches his red fins correct his course, maintaining his spyhop as frustration flickers over his juvenile features. 

Tim sighs, reaching one arm out to bat the ball back in his direction as it wanders close to the pontoon. “It can’t go under.” 

“It will,” Jason insists again as he reaches up to guide the ball into his embrace, painstakingly inspecting it for damage as Tim flops onto his side, pointing his bare toes as he surveys the mer. “It _will_ go under. It has to.” 

“Why does it have to?” Tim asks, and earns an incredulous look. 

“Because I live underwater,” the mer points out with a scoff, and, deciding that the ball hasn’t weathered any lasting damage, lunges upwards to shove it beneath the surface again. 

Tim watches the mer scramble to retrieve it, flippers cresting the water as he struggles to maintain his balance. His gaze slides over the rippling mirage of that tail, studying the hollow scar that carves up his right side, bare of those pearly scales. 

Jason’s been in the care of the aquatic research centre for nearly three months now, and whilst his wariness of two-legged researchers hasn’t ebbed much, his wounds have made considerable progress. He’d been half-dead when Damian had dragged him onto their shores, and their team of veterinarians had worked through the night to sew the young mer up, tirelessly working to keep him alive. 

The pale white scar that cleaves apart the immaculate rows of the calf’s tail is a testament to their care and consideration, marred with rippling, unhealed flesh as it may be. The mer doesn’t seem all that perturbed by it; aside from picking at the stitches in the early weeks as the wound had healed and itched, Jason has been remarkably blase about the lack of scaled protection. Tim’s sure he’s more concerned about the risk of infection and deformity than the calf is. 

Hence why he’s been tasked with keeping an eye on the small calf while Bruce and Damian run their regular patrols, reporting back to the researcher and mer respectively on Jason’s gradual progress. Tim watches the ripple of muscle through that limb, tracks the pull on the seam and the flex of each scale. 

Then Tim pulls open his notebook and records another observation. 

When he looks up, the mer is watching him, head cocked over the swell of the bright multicoloured ball. Tim snaps his book closed and pockets his pencil with a closed smile. They’d learnt the hard way that mer don’t appreciate bared teeth; they tend to view it as a threat moreso than friendliness. 

“What’s that,” Jason demands, wary of circling any closer. He’s gradually become more acclimatised to Tim’s presence since being taken in by the research centre, but he’s not wholly trusting yet. 

Tim holds the book up and hums. “This? Is paper. Bound in a book.” 

The mer’s face scrunches at ‘bound’, and Tim amends to, “Put together in a book.” 

Whilst their knowledge of the mer’s whereabouts before coming into their care is limited, Damian was able to glean some information out of the timid calf. He’d come from the same waters as Damian, raised on the warmer waters of the al Ghul reef, bred into a hunting party to serve their league. 

Damian had said he’d been snatched as a young calf by poachers, hauled onto a deck in a net half-starving and desperate. Damian had been reluctant to give them much more detail, but he’d impressed upon them how traumatic an event it must have been for the mer, and that under no circumstances were restraints to be used on the calf. 

Tim shifts onto an elbow to give himself a better view of that tail, letting Jason digest the information. The depths of his curiosity have proven to be as bottomless as the ocean, and twice as vast. Tim’s sure they can reach a common ground. 

“Book,” the calf repeats, tail swilling lazily, and Tim nods his agreement. Those shoulders unhunch into curious acquiescence, and he circles a foot closer to get a better look at the item. “Can I play with it?” 

Tim considers, eyeing the swish of that tail beneath the surface. It’s almost close enough to get a photograph of, but beneath the displaced surface of the water, he’s not likely to get a precise shot. 

They need to record Jason’s progress. Since Jason won’t let them close enough to inspect the wound firsthand - their first attempt at introducing divers into his habitat had resulted in a firm impression of the calf’s razor sharp triplicate rows of teeth, and some interesting documentary photography - Tim’s been tasked with handwriting notes on the mer’s progress, and supplementing with images for the veterinarians to closely monitor his path to recovery. 

“Paper isn’t waterproof.” 

“Waterproof,” the mer repeats, and pouts. They’d taught him that word a few weeks back, after a particularly distressing incident involving some carnival sweets. Jason had been a bit overeager to retreat with his pink cloud of cotton candy into safer waters, and they hadn’t been fast enough to dissuade him before tragedy had struck. 

“Not like that,” Tim assures him, and tears a corner off a blank page. As the mer bobs nearby, he reaches down to dip it in the water and lift it back up. It disintegrates into dregs and shreds, smearing onto the pontoon as the calf watches on. “Just doesn’t withstand water very well. But if you come here, you can try writing in mine on the pontoon here.” 

Jason’s fingers tighten on the ball, and Tim mentally backtracks. 

He shrugs, pushing into a sit so he can hoist his camera and flick through his lens’ settings. Makes sure to set the book an equal distance between him and the end of the pontoon as he fiddles. “You don’t have to. If you’re interested in books, I can see if we can find you an alternative to paper. Then you can take it back to your den.” 

The mer’s eyes spark at that, tail coiling eagerly. “That might be nice. How do you play with books?” 

“I write in mine,” Tim answers, miming a pencil. “Draw things in it with a lead pencil, so that I can come back and look at them later. Or, so I can read them.” 

“Read?” the calf prompts. 

“Read,” Tim confirms. “Words and stories from people who aren’t alive anymore. Made-up things. Adventures.” 

“I don’t like adventures,” Jason mumbles with a creased brow, concern darkening his features. “They’re scary.” 

Tim thinks that if someone dragged him into a net, hauled him halfway across a continent and tried to part him from his fins, he’d probably dislike adventures too. 

“They’re not all adventure stories. Some of them are about romance.” 

“Romance? What’s that?” 

“Uh,” Tim stalls, and adjusts his lens to idle. “You know - love. Happy feelings towards someone else.” 

“Oh,” the calf says, and Tim can see he’s mulling the thought over, tail coiling beneath the surface of the water. “That sounds nice.” 

“I can bring you some books to read,” Tim offers, and then eyes Jason eyeing the moleskin notebook. “Or I could read books to you, if you’d like that more.” 

Jason cocks his head, dark fringe dipping into his eyes. They’re going to need to coax the calf into letting them give him a haircut soon. “What sort of books?” 

“Well, if you like the sound of romance - I could read you some Austen?” 

Jason lets the ball float out from under his arms, easing closer to the pontoon until he can hook his nails into the concrete post. “Do they write about mers?” 

“No,” Tim provides, and tries not to look too interested when Jason shifts higher to inspect the gleam of light over the notebook’s covers. “But she’s very famous amongst humans. She might give you some insight into humans - an idea of what we’re like - to help you understand us better. Like we’re trying to understand you.” 

Jason hums at that, drumming his nails on the rubber mats as he considers. Tim can tell by the glint to his sapphire blue eyes that the mer is interested, even if he puts on a show. “And you’ll read… Austen, to me?” 

“If you’d like that.” 

“I think so,” Jason replies brightly, the curl of his tail betraying his excitement. His gaze flickers over the camera in Tim’s palm when Tim shifts and the sunlight bounces off the lens. His brow pinches in a scowl. “You need more pictures, don’t you?” 

Tim tries not to wince, and nods. “Yes. We need to make sure your tail doesn’t get infected.” 

He watches the muscles in the mer’s back coil, his fins adjusting to give him whatever split-second leverage he might need in the moment. “You’re not going to touch my tail, are you?” 

“No. We wouldn’t ever touch your tail without your permission. We just want to make sure you’re healthy; that’s all we want, Jason.” 

“It doesn’t hurt,” the mer offers hopefully. “That means it’s better, right?” 

“It does. But it hasn’t finished healing yet. And your scales haven’t grown in yet. We need to keep a close eye on them, to make sure they don’t grow back in crooked, or don’t grow in at all.” 

The calf looks stricken at that, glancing down at the long scar with trepidation. “They might not grow back?” 

“They should,” Tim soothes. “We’re confident they will. That’s why I have to take pictures; so if anything seems out of place, we can fix it before it becomes a problem.” 

Jason’s lips purse as he shifts restlessly. The minerals in his pores catch the sun’s rays in glittering black and red. “You’re trying to help,” he mutters, more to himself than to Tim. His tail flexes beneath the pontoon, water lapping against the rubber. “To… fix me?” 

Tim nods. “To keep you healthy.” 

“Healthy,” the mer repeats, rolling the word around his mouth. He seems to think on it for a moment, before resolution steels his bright eyes. His chin lifts, his gaze pinning Tim with a sternness beyond his years. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Tim prompts. 

Jason digs his nails into the rubber, hauling his chest up onto the pontoon as Tim watches, unbreathing, unmoving. Once he’s settled, the calf shifts a little anxiously, tail kicking up water as he adjusts his balance to suit. 

When he’s ready, he meets Tim’s gaze again and declares, “I’m ready for your pictures.” 

Tim doesn’t move yet. “Are you sure?” 

Jason eyes the camera warily. “Only pictures.” 

“Only pictures,” Tim agrees. 

“And no touching!” Jason adds, his tone rising in concern. 

Tim shakes his head in agreement. “I won’t touch your tail, I promise.” 

“If you do, I’ll- I’ll _bite,_ ” Jason warns, and opens his mouth to flash those needlelike points. Tim lets him calm, waits for the floundering panic to ebb from that gaze, before he shifts onto his knees. 

“No need to bite me,” he says, employing his most soothing tone. “I’ll just take my pictures, and then I’ll go. I won’t touch your tail, and you won’t need to bite me. Sound fair?” 

Jason gives him a stiff nod, and Tim figures waiting any longer is only going to give the calf the opportunity to change his mind, so he shuffles up the pontoon on his knees until he’s within reach of those long talons. When Jason doesn’t swipe for his bare skin, just eyes him warily, Tim shifts very slowly onto his stomach and elbows, hoisting his camera. 

“Just a few pictures,” he reaffirms, when Jason’s teeth catch the light. 

Those lips curl back a little bit, but his pearly points come together in a concession, so Tim focuses on adjusting his lens to offset the refraction of light over the water. Focuses on getting a clear shot of the tail swilling slowly beneath the surface. 

He makes quick work of it, pulling back as soon as he’s got enough to show the veterinary team. As soon as Tim’s shuffles back to sit on his heels, Jason’s shoving off the pontoon and putting a few feet between them, lowering into the protective embrace of the water until only his eyes and fringe are showing. 

“Thank you, Jason,” Tim says, holding that gaze when it narrows. 

He’s not surprised when the calf turns and dives with a flurry of movement, sinking down to the safety of his den, where he knows Tim can’t last in the depths for too long. Tim watches the red flash of tail until it disappears into the rocks far below the bobbing pontoon, and then pushes to his feet. 

Jason’s acclimatising, gradually. They both are. They’ve got a ways to go yet, but baby steps are the most integral of all. 

Tim retrieves his notebook and shuts off his camera, smiling to himself as he crosses the end of the pontoon onto dry, solid shore. Jason needs some time to himself, to come around to Tim’s company, but Tim’s confident that he will eventually. 

In the meanwhile, Tim’s got some novels to retrieve. 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, my love of mythological anatomy far outweighs my interest in plot. I worked out a bunch of worldbuilding for this universe, which I didn't even get to hint at, but that's just how the chips fall. Pour one out.  
> As the titled suggests, my writing inspiration has been floundering lately, but hopefully life will calm down soon and I can really let loose. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it anyway, and I hope June treats you better <3
> 
> [ ](https://linktr.ee/meaninglessblah)


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